JUST A MINUTE: Getting a real charge out of doing the laundry

Our old washer, of blessed memory, stopped working after a mere 5-1/2 years. After railing at the shoddy workmanship of our disposable society, I contacted an appliance repairman.

By Julie Fay

The Patriot Ledger, Quincy, MA

By Julie Fay

Posted Sep. 22, 2013 at 12:01 AM
Updated Sep 22, 2013 at 10:12 PM

By Julie Fay

Posted Sep. 22, 2013 at 12:01 AM
Updated Sep 22, 2013 at 10:12 PM

» Social News

Recently I became the proud owner of a brand-new washing machine. It’s a simple little thing, as the nooks and crannies of our postwar home won’t accommodate the larger size of an energy-efficient front-loader. We got it for a good price, and with free delivery, too.

Our old washer, of blessed memory, stopped working after a mere 5-1/2 years. After railing at the shoddy workmanship of our disposable society, I contacted an appliance repairman. He came highly recommended from acquaintances, and arrived on time, with toolbox in hand. I showed him to the basement, cautioning him against a quirk of our laundry area.

“I’m sure you won’t do this,” I said, laughing, “but don’t take off your shoes while you’re working on the washer. You might get a little shock.”

He looked at me evenly, perhaps accepting the challenge, perhaps wondering what kind of mess he was getting himself into. I told him I’d be upstairs and left him to work his magic.

Ten minutes later, he clomped up the stairs.

“Your motor’s shot,” he said.

“Oh, no,” I replied. “How much would it be to replace it?”

He shook his head. “Two hundred dollars, but you’ve got a bigger problem. That washer is hot.”

Now, I am sure appliance repairmen love their work, and have a unique appreciation for the svelte form and efficient function of their patients. But was he telling me he found my washer sexy?

“It bit me,” he continued. (Ooh la la, I thought.) “You’ve got 120 volts running through it all the time.” (Merde, I thought.)

“Oh,” I said. “Well, that would explain the shocks.”

“You need to call an electrician,” he said. “You’ve got reversed polarity in the outlet where you plugged it in. That’s what burned out your motor.”

“Oh,” I said again, embarrassedly writing the check.

A week later, the electrician arrived. I relayed what the repairman had said, and left him to figure things out. I hoped he’d be able to fix the problem, after which I could tackle the 5-foot high pile of laundry that had accumulated over the past couple of weeks. No such luck.

“I’m going to have to come back another day,” he said. “Your polarity is messed up all over the basement, not just in that one outlet. You’re not grounded, either, which is really dangerous, plus you need GFIs.”

My blank look must have conveyed my ignorance of GFIs. He explained that they were required for all electrical outlets near water, as a safety measure. My internal accountant was racking up the charges when the electrician spoke again.

He revisited us three days later. After four hours of work, we’re now grounded, polarized and GFI-ed. As a bonus, the 220 volts that were zapping other parts of the basement are now confined to the dryer outlet, where they belong. We’re up to code and can safely do laundry in our socks.